All Rise...

What a coincidence: Tiberius just happens to be the password to Judge P.S. Colbert's online bank account!

The Charge

"Battles are won by men who can reach down inside themselves and find
something: ingenuity, resourcefulness—something that tips the balance,
regardless of preparation, odds, equipment, position, or even experience. We
call that leadership."—Captain Raymond Rambridge

The Case

Ten-hut!

A few years prior to traversing the final frontier of outer space (and
achieving stratospheric immortality with Star Trek: The Original Series), veteran TV
writer Gene Roddenberry launched his first television series with an assault on
the earth. Most episodes of the military-themed The Lieutenant opened
with honest-to-gosh, mud-crawling war game exercises.

Square-jawed, earnest, and career-minded William Tiberius Rice (Gary
Lockwood, 2001: A Space Odyssey) graduated
from Annapolis and advanced quickly to the rank of Lieutenant, instructing
Marine recruits at Camp Pendleton under the command of no-nonsense Captain
Rambridge (Robert Vaughn, The Man From
U.N.C.L.E.). Rambridge, who rose through the ranks, does everything by the
book, which apparently means he must treat everyone beneath him with a mixture
of polite surliness and disapproval.

Like many of its contemporaries, The Lieutenant functioned primarily
as an anthology series, with weekly guest stars taking center stage. Bill Bixby
(The Incredible Hulk)
breaks the ice in the premiere, "A Million Miles From Clary," as one of Rice's
childhood friends, a ne'er do well cad trading on his relationship with brass in
order to get out of grunt work. Smarmy, abrasive, and hyperactive, Bixby's
performance here ranks among his best, creating someone who would make shame
itself feel ashamed to know him.

Seldom seen since its prime time run, this short-lived series has been
resurrected as a Made-On-Demand (MOD) release from the Warner Archive
collection. The series twenty nine original episodes have been split into
volumes, to keep the price point managable.

The Lieutenant: The Complete Series, Part 1 features 16 episodes on 4
discs:

Chalk it up to the growing pains of a new series looking to find its niche,
but The Lieutenant seems to suffer from a bit of an identity crisis. Take
the opening credits, for example. Lockwood addresses himself in a
mirror—one image in full officer's dress, the other in mufti. Cut to a
close-up of Lockwood (in civvies) snarling at the camera for a beat before
breaking into a wide, "Aww…shucks!" grin. The intention may have been to
show the duality of Rice's existence, but the effect is creepy, bordering on
psychotic.

With its tendency to give prominence to characters who would inhabit one
episode before moving on, the series was in some ways indistinguishable from its
period peers, competing for ratings with the likes of Route 66, The Fugitive, and Wagon Train.
Episodes primarily devoted to field exercises invite comparisons to
Combat!, and one particular story—in which Rice was required to act
as defense counsel before a court martial tribunal—bore jarring similarity
to the routine goings on of Perry
Mason, right down to an eleventh hour confession to clear the accused.

Derivations aside, The Lieutenant certainly isn't a bad show. The
weakest episodes are more than watchable, and the strongest make for
astoundingly good television; namely "Between Music And Laughter," which shows
much more of Capt. Ramridge's vulnerable human side than he'd like. Things start
off with a bang, when the Captain's ex-wife Susan (Pat Crowley, Money From Home) reappears, making no
bones about her wish to reunite with her husband. This exploration of a marriage
born from love, passion, and two people who couldn't possibly live together, has
been tried countless times on both the big and the small screen, but seldom so
successfully. Credit an expert script from veteran writer Sy Salkowitz, and
superior performances from Vaughn and Crowley.

Arguably the best episode of the series features Paul Burke (The Naked City) as Captain Ken Thomson, just
back from a tour in Vietnam, training Camp Pendleton troops in
counter-insurgency tactics. A tightly-coiled ball of rage, Thomson shows blatant
disregard for chain-of-command and procedure, while running his recruits ragged
with drills not found in the Marine corps' training manuals.

"Guerrillas know your book as well as you do!" Thomson hisses at Rice, when
the Lieutenant questions his commanding officer's unorthodox methods. Watching
all this transpire in the harsh light of hindsight, I was chilled by the
knowledge that rank-and-file's refusal to heed such advice lead to considerable
loss of life.

Vietnam hits closer to home by the series' final episode, "To Kill A Man,"
which puts Rice into the jungle thickets of South East Asia, after his
helicopter is shot down. It might have been interesting to see how The
Lieutenant dealt with this "police action" going forward, but those stories
were not meant to be. I've read rumors the show was pulled by NBC not because of
low ratings, but due to pressures from top network brass who were nervous about
dealing with this very subject. It's certainly possible, though I suspect the
real reason for the show's demise had to do with competition from then ratings
giant Jackie Gleason on CBS.

Each episode is presented in its original aspect ratio of 1.33:1 full frame.
Aside from some slight black level issues, these black and white episodes have
aged remarkably well, though one must allow for the fact that some of the stock
footage used is somewhat more depreciated. The Dolby 2.0 mono track is reliable,
which is fortunate as no subtitles have been provided.

Warner Archive has thoughtfully tacked on the feature-length version of "To
Kill A Man," released cinematically to foreign markets in 1964. About forty
minutes longer than its television incarnation, the feature adds two romantic
subplots, giving Lt. Rice a potty mouth and sexual edge the series did not. I
was pleasantly surprised by how much more I enjoyed this fleshed out version
than the original; a true "Bonus Feature" indeed. The film's theatrical trailer
has also been included.

Though this collection may prove cost prohibitive to all but die-hard Gene
Roddenberry fans, The Lieutenant: The Complete Series is a fine
representative of its period, and arguably one of the finest shows in TV
history.